


Scattered Feathers

by Magpythe



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Gen, M/M, Saguru hunting, black org meddling, injured kaito, watson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 01:04:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6032500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpythe/pseuds/Magpythe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saguru is hunting in a forest near Ekoda with Watson when he notices something amiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scattered Feathers

Trees in the early summer morning light, Saguru’s eyes scan for any movement in the branches. With the slightest hint of a feathered body, he quickly calculates--the white speckled belly of a thrush among the roots of a tree in the distance can be seen before the small bird turns it’s black feathered back to him, and he pushes his arm forward, propelling the creature on his arm forward with quick wingbeats. Watson surges forward and only alerts the smaller bird once she’s closed in more than half the original distance. Black feathers flutter frantically. The thrush banks quickly to the side, but Watson is too quick to catch on; she is intelligent, predicting the movements of the thrush and driving the small body to the ground. Hunting is something he enjoys, and maybe if Watson weren’t a Sparrowhawk, he’d be able to track down larger game, but Saguru doesn’t mind. The purpose of the hunt is to feed his bird anyway, and honestly, he wouldn’t trade Watson for anything. Walking to his sparrowhawk, Saguru lifts both her and her lunch up onto his gloved hand. Coaxing her away from the fresh meal with an older one, he bags the thrush to be frozen, scribing a quick date onto the bag in sharpie. It is time, he decides, to begin the trek home.

The passerines in the area have been alerted to Watson’s presence; he can’t help but continue to scan the area, footfalls close to silent as he retreats. He chooses to take a slightly more direct route home than he took earlier, walking through the green grass and avoiding twigs as he makes his way, Watson perched obediently on his arm. Saguru has an appointment with a client at noon, and he is on track to return home with ample time to prepare. The forest in this area, he must admit, is quite scenic. The warming sunlight, shifting patches of shadow cast from the leaves overhead, creating a play of light and dark across the area before him--forests aren’t exactly the type of terrain he normally needs to navigate as a detective, but he can’t deny a sense of ease in this sort of environment. There is a rise in the land next to him that, as he walks, looms higher up over him. The sun beats down against the side of the earth as it transitions, and he keeps the landmark in sight, tracing his way back to where he entered.

Something in the distance catches his eye; a shape several feet away from the cliff face. Saguru feels his stomach drop. Someone probably just left clothing in the area…. God, he hopes it isn’t a body. Picking up the pace, he jogs closer. The form of a leg stretched up over the rocky terrain becomes the proof that, yes, he has found a body. The only thing to hope now is that perhaps they aren’t dead. Perhaps they haven’t been here long. He doubts any foul play would be involved-- the view from above might tempt passers by closer to the edge. If this happened yesterday or even before that, then who knows what state the person might be in. Closing the distance as quickly as he can: the individual is lying on a slope, head down and away from where they must have fallen. The right arm and shoulder appear to have had first contact with the ground; large bruising and several lacerations can be seen peeking out of the cloth on their arm. Saguru realizes three steps away that the prone figure is _very_ familiar--

“Kuroba--” Hissed through his teeth as he kneels before his classmate, a cold coming over him. Kuroba can’t be _dead_. Relief floods him as his fingers find a steady pulse. Unconscious then, Kuroba is unconscious. But for him to have just _fallen_ from some height...There’s no sign of scattered rubble from a collapse from above. Someone did this. Restraining his anger--it would not do any good to feel right now--he needs to more thoroughly check Kuroba over and call an ambulance. Saguru’s ungloved hand fishes out his phone as he takes a closer look at Kuroba. The arm and shoulder indeed took the brunt of the trauma, though the fact that he is unconscious...Kuroba may be suffering blunt force trauma. Watson stirs as he dials the number and holds the phone up to his ear, the short cries sound concerned to him; he gently runs a finger down her chest to try to silence her as the line connects and he relays the situation to the person on the other end. Given the circumstances, moving Kuroba without proper medical assistance would be unwise; one does not want to risk paralysing him. The blood on his arm is a dry, dusky red. Tentatively, he feels at the back of Kuroba’s head, careful not to apply any real pressure or move his head. No blood that he can feel. That’s good. It’s been anywhere between fifteen minutes to seven hours (and eleven and a half minutes) since this happened, as that was when he last heard from the magician. They’d begun texting each other recently, as Aoko had decided to force him into their small group for reasons he wasn’t entirely certain of. Kuroba’s face doesn’t feel very cold, though he is in the sun, so to find a more specific time one would need more to go off of. He can tell that Kuroba was going for a run, judging by his choice of attire, and that the cliff face above him did not, in fact, give out. Kuroba isn’t the type to accidentally go running off paths and over cliffs. That is, unless he’d been chased…

After the ambulance comes and Kuroba is safely loaded and off to hospital care, Saguru will need to see what he can find up above.


End file.
